


Assistant's Amazing Autumn: a Dark Livestream canon divergence

by Anna_Hopkins



Series: Dark Livestream [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Assistant Gets Caught, Crack, Dark Livestream 'verse, Gen, Humor, M/M, Morally Grey Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:49:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28421967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anna_Hopkins/pseuds/Anna_Hopkins
Summary: In which Harry decides he'd rather finish his seventh year at home.(For a certain definition of home.)Or: Harry makes a decision on the train to Hogwarts. It's not exactly a wise one.Diverges from chapter Fifteen of Dark Livestream.
Relationships: Harry Potter & Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Series: Dark Livestream [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1710217
Comments: 54
Kudos: 309





	1. Harry can have a little utter chaos, as a treat

Harry stared up at the Hogwarts Express for a long moment before his feet brought him closer to the boarding door, and not only because he was operating on about four hours of sleep with how early they had to wake up to catch the train. (Going to bed at sunrise did have its disadvantages once in a while.) This would be the last September he got on the Express as a student - he smiled, taking in the scene the red steam engine made on the platform. Nostalgia really did hit hard.

Ron jostled past him, intent on reserving two adjacent compartments for everybody to sit in together, and the moment was lost. Harry stood up straighter, turned, waved to Sirius, and followed his friend, letting the hustle and bustle of the hundreds boarding distract him from the matter of the thin silver chain hanging around his neck, under his robes.

("Here, Assistant," Sir had pressed something metallic into his hands when their celebratory bottle of gin was almost empty, just before dawn.

Assistant had gazed down upon it, all silver filigree and deep green glass, so dark it was nearly black: an hourglass, as small as the end of his finger, skin-warm from Sir's palm.

"A Time-Turner, Sir?"

"Precisely," the Dark Lord smiled his most charming smile, supporting Assistant's cupped hands with one of his own. "I spent the past several days creating it." For you, Assistant heard, cheeks heating under the hood. "It is far superior to the standard version; let me explain...")

Catching up with all his friends took hours, especially given Luna and Neville had each been in areas with limited reception over much of the summer; Harry tried to focus on the (super cool, holy shit) photos of northern wilderness and tropical cloud forests, with accompanying explanations as to the hunt for, respectively, a friendly tribe of 'summer trolls' and the exceedingly-rare 'glass fern' whose leaves were almost completely invisible to the naked eye, but his attention continued to waver. He was distracted for the entire train ride by the Time-Turner resting against his skin, just beside his heart.

Despite himself, he'd brought up the issue of Hogwarts expecting it to somehow clue Sir in to his identity; that he had instead happily provided Assistant with the solution to his scheduling problem was both a relief and the source of a new concern.

Unlike Hermione's Time-Turner, this one could send him back an entire day if he wanted. So long as Harry didn't go over the same span of time twice, and managed his extra time wisely, he could live a double life with ease.

But what if he didn't live a double life?

What if he just.. stayed Assistant?

It was not a new thought; but this time, with the proof of Sir's regard resting against his skin, it was a more tempting thought than it had ever been. With the Time-Turner, he would already effectively be Assistant full-time, and Sir had seemed so pleased at the prospect. So this would be no different - right?

By the time the train was slowing to a stop for Hogsmeade station, nervous excitement was fluttering in Harry's stomach. He let his friends leave ahead of him, promising to meet at the carriages, and hurried to take his trunk down from the overhead rack, stowing away the school tie and cloak-pin that marked him as a Gryffindor in favor of a plain black tie and one of the Dark Livestream merch pins he'd bought over the summer - a skull and snake in a different configuration from the Dark Mark. He closed the trunk. "Kreacher," he whispered, "keep this for me, would you? I'll call for it in a bit."

The trunk disappeared without a word. And now, certain he was alone, Harry withdrew the hood from his mokeskin pouch and settled it around his neck, under the collar of his robes, before making his way outside. The crowd of upper-years swarmed Hogsmeade station, everyone getting off the train at the same time and beelining for the thestral-drawn carriages by the path. Harry waved to Ron and Hermione, who he could see waiting for him beside one such carriage, and waded into the crowd, letting his average height disguise him in the throngs of people, out of sight.

From there, with nobody quite paying attention to him, it was all to easy: between one step and the next, he flung up the hood and activated his Portkey to Sir's office.

With any luck, it would be quite some time before they knew for certain he was gone.

In a rare stroke of luck, the Dark Lord was not yet awake when Assistant arrived - they had, after all, stayed up slightly later than usual, and Sir had mentioned being tired from the process of creating the Time-Turner. (Assistant almost felt bad for not making use of the artifact yet.) This divergence from their usual schedule meant he could flee upstairs to his bedroom and summon Kreacher for his trunk - but wait, the estate was warded against oustide house-elves. Damn.

This put him in a bit of a conundrum; how was he to get his trunk before the Order noticed he'd gone missing? He'd left it behind on purpose so as not to catch any attention for having a trunk on the station platform (everyone knew to keep their stuff on the train).  _ At least most of my clothes are already here, _ Assistant mused, plopping down on the end of his bed.

_ That's it! I can just go out, summon Kreacher, and come back. _ The estate wasn't completely sealed off from the rest of the world, after all. He laid back on the overstuffed duvet, grinning beneath the hood.  _ That's one problem solved. _

Then he realized there was a much larger problem to attend to. A more immediate one, even.

How in the world was he going to conceal his identity, when it was almost guaranteed they would publicize Harry Potter Going Missing in every newspaper by tomorrow morning?

Assistant sat up, biting his lip.  _ Shite. _ That was a pretty massive problem, actually, and one for which he didn't have a lot of options. He  _ could _ try a Fidelius - but, ah, he didn't have the foggiest idea how to cast that. All right, so maybe he could just not talk about it? No, it would blow up on Twitter next and Sir checked his feed all the time.

He.. he  _ could _ come clean about who he was? Assistant shuddered. Just the  _ idea _ of that stressed him out. It would ruin everything between them if he outed himself now.

A familiar ripple over the mental connection Harry and Voldemort shared informed Assistant that Sir was now awake. He'd been tapping into it perhaps more often than he was strictly supposed to (if there was any amount he was 'supposed' to do such a thing). The sensation was usually a welcome one, a thrilling one, and the way he knew when to Portkey over from Number Twelve; now, all Assistant could think was,  _ well, shit. _

What in seven hells was he going to do???

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Assistant @ Harry: are you tired of being nice? don't you just wanna go apeshit?
> 
> I just realized Assistant is literally Evil Kermit in that meme ^ and I'm losing it
> 
> I had this idea last night and decided to write and post it tonight. Chapter 2 in a couple minutes.


	2. maybe maybe maybe

The Dark Lord tended to follow the same routine every day, at least when he knew to expect Assistant, which gave him a bit more time to stifle his panic and formulate something like a plan. (Not the easiest accomplishment, for someone who'd spent six years in Gryffindor House.) Sir spent a few minutes just lying in bed after he woke up, committing his dreams to memory - he had explained this to Assistant at some point - before he went for a long soak in the baths attached to his bedchamber, which had until recently been less of a tub and more of a large shallow basin of warm water, to accommodate his serpentine features, though Assistant only knew about all  _ that _ from old visions. Sir took breakfast in his office when he was finished bathing and dressing for the day, and it was after breakfast that Assistant generally joined him - all told, about an hour and a half past the time he woke up.

All of this meant Assistant had time to get over his panic, panic again, take a (shorter) bath of his own, then spend twenty minutes struggling to decide what to wear - his Hogwarts robes, minus the House identifiers, or his usual Headquarters outfits? - before he finally just gave up and went downstairs, letting his stress melt away the closer he got to Sir's office. There was no need to panic, he told himself; today was like any other day, really.

"Ah, Assistant," the Dark Lord looked up from his plate. "How has your day been?"

He could do this, he could do this-

..He couldn't do this.

_ Sir, I.. may have abandoned my identity to be Assistant full time. _ No, no, he couldn't say that, that was ridiculous. Assistant swallowed. "Good evening, Sir," he managed around the tightness in his throat. "Erm. It's been all right. I- I've been looking forward to being here instead."

"As have I," the Dark Lord agreed with a low chuckle, opening his desk's liquor cabinet. "Shall we toast this pleasant change in our arrangement?"

The next hour or two - Assistant really wasn't paying attention to the time - saw them lying together on the divan, as usual, and conversing about nothing in particular, when finally either his tongue was loosened enough by the liquor or he just couldn't take it anymore and Assistant shifted against Sir's side, meaning to sit up-

A lazy arm looped around his waist, guiding him back against him. "You are preoccupied tonight, Assistant," Sir observed in a murmur, setting his drink down to card fingers through Assistant's hair through the hood. "What is bothering you so, my dear?"

Assistant swallowed. "Sir," he began, hesitating. "Do you.. have any care for Harry Potter?"

The hand in his hair paused for the slightest moment before continuing its soothing motion. "Not particularly, no," the Dark Lord told him, unbothered by the question. (Assistant had worried he wouldn't be.) "You know, of course, that Potter is more of a political symbol than a political player; that much is clear enough from how Dumbledore," Assistant kept from wincing at the brief tug of his hair at  _ that _ name, "uses his name in the press to advance his own aims. Were I still subject to the instability that plagued me in the past, I might have held a grudge against the boy, but now? Knowing as I do that all his acts against me were at others' behest? No." A sigh. "He's around your age, Assistant, it would be silly to hold his past against him when he has so little of it."

At that, Assistant couldn't help but giggle.

"Mm, but why do you ask?" Sir wondered, toying with Assistant's earring. "I suppose you met him today, with term beginning?" A pause. "He didn't bother you, did he, Assistant?"

"No, no, Sir," Assistant hastened to say. "It's just, you may soon hear rumors that he's - ah - gone missing?"

_ "Assistant," _ Sir covered a laugh behind his hand, feigning scandal, "are you implying you killed him off?"

(Well, no, but technically-)

"N-no, Sir, I'd never-" not literally- "but I.. do know where he's gone, if it ever becomes relevant."

"Ah, all right then," the Dark Lord shrugged, smiling down at Assistant. "My, aren't  _ you _ full of surprises today? Delightfully unpredictable," he teased, booping Assistant on the end of his nose. "It puts me in mind of an excellent quote from Muggle television..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how cracky should this get idk about y'all but i'm taking suggestions
> 
> also yes that is an indirect hannibal reference, darklivestream!voldemort is absolutely a fannibal (should they watch the show in one of the Assistant Series episodes ? idk)


	3. well yes, but actually no

Assistant would always love Sir for his tendency not to pry - platonically, of course, as if that needed to be said. The rest of their night went as it always did, save that Severus was not present in the potions lab for them to bother when they went to get Sobering Draught (so they were in and out of the room in only a few minutes). It was as if the topic of Harry Potter had never come up at all.

He let himself forget about the matter as thoroughly as Sir had, at least until he returned to his quarters, close to dawn, started running a bath, and picked up the phone he’d left turned off on his bedside table-

 _Oh, Merlin._ He had thirty voicemails, fifty-six missed calls, and like a hundred unread texts - and that was just the notifications that he had on his lockscreen.

And now that the phone was on, he showed up as online in several apps - which meant no less than three different people were now trying to video call him across multiple platforms.

[Hi, Harry here, I’m fine], he copypasted to everyone who’d texted him, ignoring the increasingly frantic messages themselves.

Sirius was the first to respond: [what the bleeding hell harry where did you go]

[Yeah, I’ve run off. Got a bit of mischief and youthful rebellion to do. See you later xoxo]

He kicked off his boots into a corner, checked his phone again, and stifled a cackle at the spam that earned him:

[first off that xoxo is cringe]

[second why didnt you just TELL ME you were going on an adventure]

[asgfsd]

(Assistant couldn't get over his easily Sirius had taken to texting like the rest of them.)

[i just]

[you know what i'm not even mad i'm just disappointed]

[and so is Remus]

[even during my youthful rebellion i still went to school]

Assistant copypasted that line into a custom Tshirt site and ordered one in neon red to send to Sirius on overnight shipping. On second thought, he ordered a black crop top from the same site with the words in neon green, delivered to his Knockturn postbox. Then he took a moment to get undressed for a bath. When he checked his notifications again he had another two missed calls, both from Sirius, and a bunch more texts:

[but fine whatever you're still taking your NEWTs right?]

[i'm going to assume you are and just not get into it]

[actually]

[remus says you are 'taking your NEWTs young man and if you're going to be independent you're damn well getting all Os.']

[shit you not he actually said 'damn']

[wait]

[harry]

[harry harry, my godson, my dude]

[are you]

[at your boyfriends house right now]

[instead of going to school]

[is that what this is]

Assistant blushed. He'd almost forgotten about that excuse.

[yes] he texted back, taking the hood off as he crossed the threshold into the bathroom.

[oh my god harry seriously]

[sirius-ly]

And Sirius was calling him again. Video calling.

 _You know what,_ Assistant thought, turning off the tap, _if this is the lie I'm going with, I'd better own it._

[Call from: Siri

Accept - Decline - Screen Call]

He swiped on 'accept.'

"HARRY!" came the shout from the other end. Assistant winced, glad he hadn't taken the call somewhere less private. "YOU'RE OKAY!"

“Uh, yeah, Siri, why wouldn’t I be?” he replied at a normal volume, setting his phone to float in the air so he wouldn’t have to hold it while he sank up to his chin in the tub. (He’d used a bath bomb in the water to turn it black, for the aesthetic.) “I was kinda busy all day with my phone off, I’m sure you can imagine with what-”

“ACK!” Sirius shrieked and fled the view of the camera on his end, face in his hands. In the background, Assistant could see Remus’ disapproving half-frown be interrupted with a roll of his eyes at the man’s antics, and a narrowing of Snape’s eyes, and oh wait the Order was meeting and he had just answered the phone naked what the hell was wrong with him-

“Oh, um, I’m kind of in the tub so I’ll just turn the camera off-”

Remus sighed, rolling his eyes again. “Oh, Harry. That, at least, is on us for not warning you a meeting was going on, but what exactly inspired you to up and disappear in the middle of Hogsmeade without telling anyone?”

Now Assistant was glad he’d turned off his camera - this way, they couldn’t see him struggling to make up a response. “I.. maybe didn’t think it through?” he managed eventually, reaching for a bottle of wine that one of Sir’s house-elves had left out a moment ago, how generous of them. (Actually, that was another reason to be glad the camera was off, no way would anybody approve of his drinking habits.) He uncorked the bottle with a pop and poured half a glass, adjusting the waterproof pillow behind his head. “And then,” a sip of the wine, “I was a bit occupied the rest of the day, like I said earlier.”

“Potter,” Snape spoke up next, looking as sour as Harry had ever seen him, “much as you appear to be pretending otherwise, you are not living in a world without consequences. Absence from formal schooling at NEWT level requires a guardian’s signature filed with the school and the Ministry; Black is willing to sign on your behalf, but we require assurances on your part before going through with it.”

That was the most civil the man had ever been to Harry in recent memory - on par with how he treated Assistant when Sir wasn’t watching. Assistant drained his glass and set it down by the side of the tub. “What assurances, exactly?”

“Your safety, for one,” Remus answered. “Confirmation that you’re not being held captive, under the influence of potions or the Imperius, or otherwise coerced into staying where you are. We’d like to meet your boyfriend, get his contact information, and run a background check-”

Assistant stifled a laugh, producing a noise more like a strangled snort.

“-and extract a vow of your safety and privacy in the event he is approached by the press,” Snape added, sending an unreadable glance at Sirius and Remus.

“Already taken care of that last bit,” Assistant thought aloud. “Anything else?”

The suspicious look Snape gave him at the easy acquiescence reminded Assistant yet again how glad he was he’d turned his camera off - Legilimency might only work in person, but he had a knack for sniffing out deception just by looking at a person.

Sirius went on: _“I’d_ prefer for you to contact us at least once a day so we know you’re all right. And that you’re doing your assignments.”

“Studying from home isn’t a new concept to Sirius or I,” Remus smiled. “Hogwarts has resources for students to learn from home and by correspondence - it’s not the sixteenth century, you know? Plenty of students have had to go home due to family matters for weeks at a time during term, over the years.”

“I have to say, you guys sound a lot more okay with this than I thought you’d be,” Assistant couldn’t help but mention. “I kind of expected.. Yelling? Or something.”

The three wizards shared a look. “The rest of the Order is yelling quite loudly behind a silencing ward,” Snape informed him, dry. “It was determined that the three of us would be best suited to actual discussion of the matter.”

“Because they’re my godfathers, and you’re..? Oh, right, the vow,” Assistant realized.

“Quite.” Snape steepled his fingers on the table.

“So let’s pick a date and time to meet, Harry,” Sirius beamed at the camera. “Say, tomorrow at the house?”

Assistant considered it as he got out of the tub, spelled himself dry, and donned a robe. The mental image of introducing Sir to the Order was world-class comedy, but. “I think,” he started, turning the camera back on so they could all see his sheepish smile, “well, you can’t really - I’m not ready for you to meet him and he’s _definitely_ not ready to meet any of you-” though technically Snape had already met him “-and I’ve been up _all night_ doing Lord knows what-” Lord Voldemort, that is “-erm, I mean, _I_ know, but you guys don’t want to know.” (Dark magic, mostly.) “I can still check in once in a while if I’m not busy but it’ll be late at night, and I’ll figure out something for the NEWTs yeah but not today, I’m,” he yawned, “too tired, so goodnight!”

And then he hung up.

And put his phone on silent.

And toggled off all notifications.

And, on the way to his ultra-comfy bed, took the SIM card out of his phone and turned the device off.

 _Good night, Order meeting,_ he thought, imagining Sirius’ overdramatic shrieks at being cut off. _Good night, Harry Potter._ He had no interest in being Harry for a while.

And, “Good night, Sir,” Assistant murmured into his pillow with a smile, imagining how funny it would be if the extra pillow he was cuddling were the actual Sir (who was, thankfully, safely away in his own quarters, several floors up, and well out of hearing range). He felt a little bad for stringing Sirius along, but put the matter aside for now.

Everything would be easier in the morning.


End file.
